


Making Ends Meet

by Liara_90



Series: Two Loose Ends [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And Blake A Little Too, Bisexual Female Character, Bondage, Character Study, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Happy Ending, Lesbian Character, Light Angst, Love, Modeling, POV Third Person, Pussy Magnet, Pyrrha Being All Protective, Roommates, Rope Bondage, Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 20:01:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5640124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liara_90/pseuds/Liara_90
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU. Blake Belladonna is one cup of noodles away from being a starving artist, so she reluctantly takes up a gig as a bondage model. But there's only one person she trusts to escort her to the shoot - her roommate (and secret crush) - Pyrrha Nikos. And at Cinderful Studios things never go quite as expected.</p>
<p>Love, smut, and all the WAFF in-between. Fluff and romance with a splash of kink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. For Want of a Nail

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this picture: http://keethy.deviantart.com/art/Purrha-Com-RWBY-488487012  
> (Look at it and tell me the world doesn't need more Pussy Magnet). Pyrrha's workout attire inspired by the art of Jo3mm (http://jo3mm.deviantart.com/art/Gym-527550832). This is not purely a bondage smut fic, though the story does contain significant elements of bondage, so don't read it if that's not your thing. But I promise there's actually a lot of plot and romance and character dynamics to balance out the kinkiness. (Which, incidentally, starts in Chapter 3. The WAFF is everywhere, I think.)

**Update on Commissions (And My Life)**  
by BeautyBeast90, Dec 10, 2015, 6:52:48 PM  
Journals / Personal  
COMMISSIONS ARE CURRENTLY OPEN!!!

So, to my own surprise, I'm re-opening for commissions sooner than expected. My pricing guide is already available here, so take a look at it and see if there's anything you'd like (they make a great gift for the holidays, if you get your order in quickly!) Unless of course you're cardin_WIN_chester or dBronzer, you reneging S.O.B.s. And again, the guidelines to which subjects I'll draw (or more exactly, which ones I _won't_ ) is available here.

Anyways, the reason commissions are being opened again is because I got fired today. I don't want to dwell on it, but suffice it to say I was working as a waitress at a place just off the university campus, and it was the kind of place where short skirts and tight tops were kind of the main attraction. The hours were shit and the customers shittier, but I could usually make a decent amount in tips every night…

…Assuming I was willing to put up with the _constant_ sexual harassment. The suggestive comments and the leering stares, fine, but when people started getting touchy-feely is when I started to lose it. Managers were completely unsympathetic, _quelle surprise_. So earlier today some asshole grabs my butt and I slapped him across the face. Maybe I wasn't thinking it would be hard enough to knock him out of his chair, but like hell am going to apologize for it.

So yeah, manager took me out back and said I should be grateful he wasn't calling the cops on me. Words were exchanged, and now I'm unemployed. Can't say I'm really _sad_ about it, but rent's coming due and I'd like to eat sometime this month.

Moral of the story to all my guy-friends out there: don't be a dick to waitresses. They're paid to take your order, not your sexual fantasies. I know the overwhelming majority of you guys are perfectly chivalrous gentlemen, so if you could also make it clear that you're not going to stand for this kind of harassment I'd be immensely thankful. And if anyone out there wants to demonstrate their support for a girl who's tired of putting up with this kind of shit…. I'm just going to leave this link to my Patreon here.

A special shout out tonight for all those girls made of steelier stuff than I am who are still working those shifts, night after night after night. Yangarang6969, you kept me sane for as long as you could.

-Blake

DON'T FORGET - My second NoL.zip pack is now for sale for only $15!  
In addition to containing hi-rez scans of my complete _Ninjas of Love_ portfolio (including sketches), this also features TEN all-new illustrations available in this set and nowhere else. Includes Masumi, Kazumi, Rei, Ayame and a few surprises!

2 Comments

* * *

 

Blake let out a weary sigh, staring up at the ceiling of the basement apartment she would soon not have the money to live in. Her savings were practically non-existent and it wasn’t like she'd be getting a loan anytime soon. She'd missed most of the Christmas retail hiring bonanza so she doubted there was anyone who'd be offering her a job in the near-future, particularly without decent references. Not that her plan for tomorrow wasn't to spend hours knocking on doors, résumé in hand. Blake didn't really have a lot of other options, not unless…

Her train-of-thought was interrupted by the sound of the door being unlocked and forced open, the crappy thing always needing a bit of a shoulder-check. Blake shared her subterranean suite with another girl, the first time in her life she'd had a roommate who hadn't driven her crazy inside of five minutes. Or rather, _had_ driven her crazy, but in a completely different way altogether.

Pyrrha Nikos, i.e. six feet of the most beautiful woman Blake Belladonna had ever laid eyes upon. She was panting slightly as she crossed the threshold into their apartment, sweating despite the sub-zero temperatures outside. She was wearing only a black sports bra and a matching pair of workout shorts that left far too little to Blake's imagination. Her muscled biceps, her powerful legs, her perfect abs - nope, Blake Belladonna definitely did _not_ need help visualizing those. Pyrrha's red hair, flowing like a flame in the wind, was bound in a loose ponytail behind her head, spilling over a large backpack tightly strapped around her shoulders.

"Hello again!" she called out as she eyed her roommate, currently sprawled out on the couch in what was probably the antithesis of an athletic pose. Pyrrha shut the door behind her, a final gust of cold air slipping into the room and sending a shiver down Blake's spine. Blake had always hated the cold, was a glutton for sweaters and blankets, and more than a little possessive of their shared space heater. "Sorry for letting the cold in," said Pyrrha as she slid off her backpack, having noted her roommate's discomfort.

"It's like ten below freezing right now," replied Blake, wrapping the blanket ever-more tightly around herself. "How do you not have frostbite?"

"I ran," replied Pyrrha by way of explanation, pouring herself a large glass of water from the sink and downing most of it in a long gulp.

"From the gym on campus?" A campus that was more than a few bus stops away.

" _Mm-hm_ ," said Pyrrha as she finished the glass. She immediately washed it out and began going through the other dishes in the sink, taking care of a mess Blake felt she herself should have. It wasn't like she had a job or classes to take up her time anymore. "Was training with hurdles earlier, which was fun as always, but it left me still yearning for a nice, long run."

"Next time they host the Summer Olympics in Svalbard you are going to have _such_ an advantage over everyone."

"If you only exercise when it feels easy, you're missing the point," recited Pyrrha, sorting cups and plates into their appropriate cupboards. "No pain, no gain. Or at least, that's what my old coach always told me."

Blake let out a soft snort. "Speak for yourself, Rocky," she called back. "Classes good?"

"Same as usual," answered Pyrrha. "Gave my presentation on STIs in the African Great Lakes region."

"Oh? How'd that go?" asked Blake, as if there was any doubt that Pyrrha Nikos had succeeded beyond anyone's expectations.

"The professor seemed to like it," replied Pyrrha with a rare grin of self-satisfaction. "If I do some re-writing I might be able to get it published in one of the undergraduate journals."

"A chance to get something you wrote in print? I say go for it," agreed Blake, as Pyrrha made her way back from the small kitchen to their communal living room. "It beats self-publishing on Amazon, I promise you that."

Pyrrha gave her a sympathetic smile, as she set about extracting textbooks from her backpack. Blake couldn't quite keep a pang of envy from flashing through her. After her…. _disillusionment_ … with certain political activists she'd found herself wondering what on Earth she was going to do with her life. She wrote romance ebooks, translated dōjinshi, sketched fan art, edited AMVs… but something was still missing. And _of course_ the Fates had paired her with a roommate that was her antithesis given flesh. _There_ was a woman who wasn't content being an Olympic-level athlete, no, Pyrrha Nikos felt the need to save the world, too. So she studied public health, donated blood, volunteered with Médecins Sans Frontières, and gave inspirational speeches at inner city schools. Never failed to do her share of the chores, and then some. And somehow there wasn't a pretentious bone in her body.

"How was work?" asked Pyrrha, pulling out the last of her notebooks, which were diligently filled with her neat handwriting, as always. "Did you get off early?" Pyrrha knew Blake didn't exactly enjoy her shifts at Junior's Bar and Grill, and was content to play the part of the sympathetic ear.

"Got fired, actually" replied Blake, dryly. She kept her gaze focused on her laptop in a facsimile of indifference, though in the corner of her vision she saw Pyrrha's emerald eyes goes wide.

"What? Blake, is everything okay?" asked Pyrrha, practically rushing to her side. Blake did her best to act nonchalant as Pyrrha knelt down beside her spot on the couch, the unreserved expression of _care_ on her face enough to melt the ex-waitress' heart.

"Someone grabbed my ass, so I hit him," Blake replied. "Of course the security cameras haven't been working there for weeks so there's no way I could prove it."

"Blake… that's _horrible_ ," said Pyrrha. "We should go to the Student Legal Aid Center. I'll come with you, we can find out what our-"

"Pyrrha, please, don't worry about me," said Blake, feeling almost guilty about the amount of sympathy she was eliciting from the redhead. "I'm not a student, anyways."

"Still, we should do something. It's not… right."

"No, it's not," agreed Blake, struck by another pang of bitterness. How much of her adolescence had been spent in streets packed with protesters, believing everything she was doing was about _making things right_? "But they were looking for an excuse to fire me anyways. I'm not exactly the kind of…. _sunny_ … personality they wanted." She shrugged. "I'm going to start looking for a new job tomorrow. Hopefully some stores still need help for Christmas."

Pyrrha nodded softly, taking Blake's hand in hers and giving it an affectionate squeeze. Despite herself, Blake felt something warm bubble inside her. "Alright. I'm going to go get changed, and then how about I cook dinner and we do something together tonight? We can watch a movie or play, um, what was the game you liked…"

" _Halo_?" answered Blake with a teasing grin. "I'm not _that_ sadistic, Pyrrha." Blake herself was hardly a professional gamer, but Pyrrha was simply _atrocious_ at anything with a joystick, the only weakness Blake had ever been able to find in her. "But a movie sounds lovely."

Pyrrha smiled that beautiful smile of hers, and the warmth in Blake's chest spread every further. "Sounds like a grand evening," declared Pyrrha. "And don't forget that if you ever need to talk to me about anything, I'm here for you."

"Thanks, Pyrrha," said Blake, unable to feign her unusual nonchalance. "It… means a lot to me."

Only when the door to Pyrrha's bedroom was closed did Blake realize that her roommate had never once asked her about her share of the rent.

* * *

**What Do You Do**  
by BeautyBeast90, Dec 11, 2015, 02:11:57 AM  
Journals / Personal

So you're feeling down. Like a failure. Worthless. And then a girl who you think is the most stunningly good-looking lady you've ever laid eyes on, who's smart and strong and caring and could do _waaaaay_ better than you, decides to make it her personal mission to make you feel better? Who'll spend her evening cooking you amazing food with groceries you can't pay for, keeps you company through some shitty movie, and THEN plays through a few levels of co-op with you (even if she still can't move and change directions at the same time). And somehow doesn't make you feel like shit for not having a job or any money for food or rent or _anything_.

Yeah, I'm really out of ideas on what to do for her. With her. Whatever. 'Hey, wanna see just how cheap a girlfriend I can be?' doesn't strike me as anyone's ideal of romance. And unless she's a fan of smutty manga fanart it's not like I have anything to offer. 

Feel free to drop your (PG-13) romance advice below.

-Blake

0 Comments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, and welcome to my best attempt at giving the underloved Pussy Magnet some romantic attention. It's an AU, obviously, but I'm trying to keep the underlying character traits the same. Blake still carries a streak of righteousness in her, tempered by the realities of the world. Pyrrha is still selfless to a fault, wanting to save the world even if she sometimes forgets she's a part of it. Or so the author's rambling character interpretations go.
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoy! Leave comments along the way!


	2. An Offer She Can't Refuse

Blake Belladonna did not know how to cook.

That was the end of the story. She lived on things that came in pre-packaged containers, or could be microwaved in five minutes or less. She didn't particularly mind it - her palate was cheap and it didn't get much cheaper than ninety-nine cent bowls of ramen - though it meant that she was having some trouble with Phase I of her plan. Namely, the part where she cooked Pyrrha Nikos something nice for dinner.

Blake growled in exasperation as she closed yet another YouTube cooking tutorial video. Either she didn't have the time, the ingredients, the equipment or the experience to make anything worth presenting to anyone. She was even too broke to order a pizza, her perennial fall-back option. To make matters worse she knew Pyrrha kept a pretty close eye on her what she ate - what with her being an amazing athlete and all - and Blake didn't want her roommate shoveling something unhealthy into her just to avoid hurting her feelings.

"Hello again!" Pyrrha called out, returning home, this time in casual attire. She wore a wine red blouse and dark blue jeans, atop that a short black jacket that looked far too thin for these temperatures. It was a small step up from what most of her classmates wore, though Blake thought she looked good in everything, even (especially?) when she didn't bother with makeup. How exactly Pyrrha always looked so perfectly composed with so little effort was a mystery Blake had yet to solve, though she suspected that the years Pyrrha had spent in front of cameras - in races, in press conferences, in commercials - had at least something to do with it. "Blake…. are you in the kitchen?"

" _I know_. I think we somehow slipped into a weird parallel dimension, but I'm working on a way to restore us to our proper universe."

"Very funny," said Pyrrha with a small smile, as she made her way into the cramped kitchen that was usually her unchallenged domain.

"I was trying to make you something for dinner," confessed Blake with a sigh, slumping over as she spoke. "Except I don't want to feed you the junk I normally eat and I don't know how to cook anything decent so I got about as far as the candles." Blake gestured to two red candles resting atop the only table in their shared basement, still waiting to be lit.

"It's a very nice thought," said Pyrrha, no trace of judgment in her voice. "But you know you don't need to cook for me."

"I know," Blake agreed. She then paused for several seconds, struggling to voice the thought she knew she had to say. "It's just that…. I need a favor."

"Oh." Pyrrha's voice dropped ever-so-slightly, the edge of uncertainty creeping in. "Blake… I don't have-"

"It's not about rent!" Blake hurriedly interjected. "Or rather, it is, but not the way you think."

Pyrrha nodded slowly, and Blake breathed a sigh of relief that her roommate wasn't kicking her to the curb then and there. Not, of course, like that was something Pyrrha Nikos would ever actually do, but the vision haunted Blake all the same. "Are you… short on cash?" Pyrrha asked delicately, as if there was really any uncertainty about it.

"Yeah," admitted Blake, and the soft way she spoke the words confirmed that these weren't her run-of-the-mill, living paycheck-to-paycheck kind of problems. She'd lived practically her whole life in one state of poverty or another, 'barely making it' was just the way of the world for her. "I'm still looking for a job, but there are some short-term… problems…" Not the least of which was that rent was obscene in this city. Even splitting some shitty basement took a huge chunk of Blake's wages, when she'd had them.

"Blake, I'd like to help you, but I don't think I have enough to…" Pyrrha trailed off, the awkwardness of the sentiment stopping her short. Pyrrha was, in some ways, far richer than most girls her age were, particularly university students. But as a condition of her sponsorship almost all the money she earned - from tournaments, sponsors, commercials - was kept in a trust until she graduated, doled out in a diminutive allowance in the meantime. Blake had often wondered how Pyrrha stood for that, how she was okay with the fact that the people who grew fat off her sweat still patronized her like a child. But Pyrrha seemed to accept it like it was just a fact of life, another burden she had to bear. The same way some people chose what she wore in commercials, others wrote crude blogs about her sexuality, while a few described in detail how they'd jacked off to her in unsolicited emails. If Pyrrha ever felt like going full Supervillain on the world, Blake would sign up to be her first minion.

"I have a way of making my share of the rent," began Blake, fiddling with her fingers as she spoke. "I met someone online a while back who said they'd be interested in me doing some, ah, _modeling_ for them."

"Oh really?" said Pyrrha, perking up slightly. For a girl almost completely disinterested in fashion Pyrrha sure had done more than her fair share of modeling work (not that Blake had ever searched around to find out, certainly not). In sportswear and swimwear, dresses and bikinis, whatever the commercial of the month dictated. It helped that at just shy of six feet Pyrrha was almost the perfect height for a female model. And she was, well, _beautiful_. And incredibly photogenic, even if Blake thought her PR-ready smile didn't always reach her eyes. "What kind of modeling? I can give you some tips if you'd like."

"It's…. a fetish shoot," Blake managed to cough out. "Bondage, specifically." Blake blushed scarlet at that, feeling the heat creep up the back of her neck. She herself was hardly the vanilla type, her artistic portfolio had more than a few representations of kink in it, but somehow talking about this with Pyrrha was…. _awkward_. Even if Pyrrha had admitted that she was batting for the other team, discussing sex with her always made Blake feel like she was sullying something pristine. Pyrrha was just so _proper_ Blake felt wrong talking to her about sex toys or her erotica, even if Pyrrha had never shown so much as a sliver of distaste for her hobbies. And Blake knew it was just as wrong to treat Pyrrha like some asexual doll, to be like her sponsors and pretend Pyrrha didn't want a sex life like everyone else. But still….

"Bondage?"

"Um, it's where people get tied up for erotic purposes, usually with…" Blake trailed off when Pyrrha's deadpan expression made it clear she hadn't been asking for a definition. "Sorry."

"Are you… okay?.... doing this?" asked Pyrrha gently. And Blake knew she wasn't asking in a judgmental way, but speaking to the fears that festered deep within the aspiring artist.

"Yeah," said Blake, more to herself than anyone else. "I mean, there are already nudes of me on the Internet." Admittedly of a rather different sort, from a black-and-white photoshoot a friend had done for her some time ago. Very tasteful, working with light and shadows. She'd uploaded them to her deviantArt page a few months ago, and remained mildly ambivalent that the photos clearly showing her breasts were apparently the most popular things she'd ever posted. "It's not hardcore porn or something."

"So what do you need me for?" asked Pyrrha, and Blake realized somehow her hands had ended up inside the redhead's.

"I was just hoping I could have someone escort me there," Blake said softly. "I don't think it's going to be dangerous or anything, but I'd feel a lot better if someone I trusted was supervising everything."

"Blake…." Pyrrha squeezed her hands, and Blake felt warmth wash over her. "I'm _honored_ that you trust me with this."

"Don't be so dramatic," replied Blake with a small grin. "But if you could hang around with me for a few hours tomorrow evening… I should make enough money from the shoots to cover rent and my share of the groceries."

"I won't let anything happen to you," said Pyrrha, her words coming out far more solemnly than she'd probably intended.

Blake squeezed Pyrrha's hands, losing herself in the strength of those fingers. "I know."

* * *

Subject:Taking you up on an offer  
Sent: December-11-15 10:12:57 AM  
From:Blake Belladonna (blake.belladonna90@gmail.com)  
To: Cinder Fall (cinder@cinderfulstudios.com)

Hello Cinder, it's Blake Belladonna writing (aka BeautyBeast90 on dA). Hope everything is going well on your end. I just wanted to let you know that I'm considering taking you up on that offer to do some bondage modeling, assuming you're still interested. If you're in the city, send me an email and we can try to work something out. (I might be leaving town in a few days so sooner rather than later would be better). Evening would be preferable.

Thanks,  
Blake

* * *

Subject:RE: Taking you up on an offer  
Sent: December-11-15 1:11:02 PM  
From: Cinder Fall (cinder@cinderfulstudios.com)  
To: Blake Belladonna (blake.belladonna90@gmail.com)

Hello, Blake, it's so good to hear from you. I'd started to fear you'd forgotten about me. I never did get the chance to thank you in-person for that piece I commissioned.

I'm still very interested in working with you, so I'd love to be able to hammer something out. My offer is still unchanged since we last spoke. I recently added some information to the "Model With Us" section of the website (link here),which hopefully will answer any questions you might have. Would tomorrow evening around 7 PM work for you?

I'd like to block off at least three hours, though we might not need it all. And I prefer shooting at my place (the address in the Contact Us section) rather than a hotel somewhere. Just remember to bring a piece of photo ID. You can bring an escort if you'd like, so long as they aren't too protective.

Love,  
Cinder

* * *

Subject: RE: Taking you up on an offer (2)  
Sent: December-11-15 10:33:10 PM  
From: Blake Belladonna (blake.belladonna90@gmail.com)  
To: Cinder Fall (cinder@cinderfulstudios.com)

I'll be there.


	3. Coiled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pyrrha's attire is inspired by 宙（sora)'s piece "sleeveless" (http://efr-s.tumblr.com/post/116204363347/sleeveless)

"This is… somehow not where I expected a bondage studio to be located," mused Pyrrha, as they left the bus station in a part of town where average incomes were a standard deviation or two above the norm.

"What were you expecting?" replied Blake idly, trying to wrap her scarf ever-tighter around her neck.

"I'm… not sure," admitted Pyrrha with a confused shrug.

Pyrrha was dressed (a little) more appropriately for the cold than she usually did, with a dark, sleeveless turtleneck and matching pants beneath a mid-calf coat and knee-high boots. Blake herself was bundled up like Hell had frozen over - sweater, coat, scarf, toque - pretty much the polar opposite of whatever an erotic model was supposed to be wearing, she noted with some irony. There still wasn't any snow, which might have offered something in exchange for the cold, but instead they were left with nothing by freezing temperatures and biting winds, the Sun having dipped below the horizon long ago.

Cinderful Studios was apparently located in a château-style manor a few blocks from the bus routes, near the end of a cul-de-sac where there was scarcely any traffic, pedestrian or vehicular. After she'd looked up the address on Google Maps Blake had become more than a little curious as to how "Cinder" could actually afford the place. Big-name bondage studio or not there was no way her photos and videos were financing this kind of lifestyle. And searching for "Cinder Fall" in the public record produced basically nothing, just one more enigma. Blake still didn't think she absolutely _needed_ Pyrrha Nikos accompanying her, but her presence was reassuring all the same.

The property was surrounded by a wrought-iron fence, tipped with spikes that were clearly more than decorative. After an exchange of glances Blake tapped a button on an intercom unit by the driveway, staring unflinchingly into a CCTV camera mounted above.

"Blake," came Cinder's voice after a pause. Blake had heard that voice only twice before, when discussing the details of a commissioned piece of artwork over the phone months ago. Even distorted by the speakers her tone was clear and distinctive, an aristocratic drawl that always reminded Blake of a noir film's _femme fatale_. "You're early. Please, come in."

With a mechanical click the lock on the gate was opened, and the gates swung open on motorized hinges. That they swung shut and locked with _clang_ as soon as the two girls were over the property line did little to soothe Blake's nerves.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to," murmured Pyrrha, as the two strolled along the driveway to the manor's front door, a trek that seemed a lot longer than it had from the sidewalk. Without thinking, Blake found her hand slipping out of her pocket and into Pyrrha's reassuring grip. "I'm sure we can find the money some other way if we need to."

"Maybe we can, but it's not fair to you if I turn down a sure thing," replied Blake, her breath condensing in the air before her. "Landlord could end up kicking us both out, don't forget."

"Blake, I don't want you to-"

Pyrrha was silenced by Blake giving her hand an affectionate squeeze. Pyrrha paused momentarily, unsure of what to do, before squeezing back, a thumb playing gently over Blake's knuckles. Countless hours at the gym gave her grip considerably more strength than Blake's, who was more than content to let Pyrrha be the stronger woman.

The front door swung open as they approached it, a woman standing on the threshold, utterly indifferent to the cold.

"Cinder," said Blake, trudging up a few stone steps to greet the lady on even footing.

"In the flesh, dear," answered Cinder Fall with a grin. She was wearing a short red dress that hung off-the-shoulders, its hem stopping a seductive distance above the knee, the high heels on her feet making her legs all the more lithe. Her age was almost impossible to peg, but she was beautiful whatever it was, though in the same way a tiger or a jaguar was, sleek and powerful and _carnivorous_. Blake began to extend an arm only for Cinder to close the distance between them in one effortless step, planting a soft kiss on Blake's cheek. "I'm thrilled that you could make it."

"Yeah, well… happy to be here?" said Blake with the shrug, giving one of the less convincing performances of her life.

Cinder's eyes darted to Pyrrha, who was standing a deferential half-step behind Blake. "And who would your _dashing_ companion be?"

"Cinder, this is-" Blake began.

"-Pyrrha Nikos, ma'am," supplied the redhead, extending a hand. Blake bit her lips at that - she'd been planning to introduce Pyrrha simply as a friend, seeing as there was no need to give her legal name. The less your real life intersected with these kinds of things, the better.

" _Enchanté_ ," replied Cinder with that devilish smile of hers, taking Pyrrha's hand by the fingers and raising it to her lips for a courtly kiss. Blake's eyes shot wide and Pyrrha blushed more than a little, gestures Cinder ignored entirely. "Please, come inside." Neither girl missed the faint imprint of Cinder's lipstick on the other.

The interior of the manor was every bit as beautiful as the exterior, if a little emptier than Blake would've expected, both of possessions and people. Cinder seemed to have minimalist sensibilities, her few furnishings uniformly obeying a red-and-black color scheme, her tastes suggesting a penchant for dark wood and fine glass. Cinder directed them to a living room of sorts, a room with plush carpeting and shelves filled with leather-bound books, two large bay windows providing a view of the sprawling grounds outside.

"Would you care for something to drink before we begin?" asked Cinder, returning through the doorway with a bottle and several glasses. "I'm afraid I had to guess your tastes in wine."

"I'll be fine for now," Blake declined, her voice a little more steely than she'd intended. The last thing she wanted was to be at anything but her full faculties.

"I'm afraid I'll also have to decline," agreed Pyrrha. "I'm still not twenty-one."

”My, my, Blake," said Cinder, a note of humor in her voice as she poured herself a glass. "I never would've expected your companions to be so… _well-mannered_."

"She's my roommate," replied Blake by way of explanation, sliding out of her sweater as she did. If Cinder was expecting her to be wearing something more seductive beneath that she'd surely have been disappointed. Underneath her winter-wear Blake was dressed in a tight-fitting black T-shirt with an unbuttoned plaid shirt atop it, jeans on her legs and running shoes on her feet. Cinder's website had suggested models bring their own clothing, including a pair of high heels, but Blake had left her only pair at home, figuring it would mean less time standing around in excruciating footwear. "Do you mind if we get started?"

"Not at all," answered Cinder, unfazed by Blake's evident grouchiness. She walked over to a nearby couch and retrieved a hand-end camera, the kind Blake would've killed for back when she was interested in photography. "Would you mind holding up your photo ID so I could get a picture of it."

Blake grabbed her wallet out of her jeans and pulled out her driver's license - not like she had a car to drive, mind you - allowing Cinder to snap a photo of it next to her head to confirm her age, per the recordkeeping requirements. After that was the paperwork, basically allowing Cinder to use her image for commercial purposes and confirming Blake's consent to be bound. Cinder spent the time setting up a panopticon of video cameras, their memory cards ready to capture Blake from multiple angles in 4K resolution. What looked to Pyrrha like stage lights were positioned around the room, ensuring everything would be properly lit for film. There was even a boom mic affixed overhead, its directional cone angled towards the floor. Pyrrha stood awkwardly to the back of the room, one hand playing across the opposite arm's bicep. She still wasn't quite sure what she was supposed to do, short of knocking Cinder unconscious if Blake seemed to be in genuine distress.

"We're going to keep the first shoot simple," said Cinder, as she began going over her tools of the trade, which were laid out on the carpet beyond the cameras' field-of-view. Rope and tape, handcuffs and chains, hot pink ballgags and intimidating muzzles of dark leather. "You can keep all your clothes on, if you like. I'm going to tie you up and gag you, and you're going to struggle for about ten minutes in front of the cameras. Is that acceptable?"

"You're the boss," replied Blake, dryly, though Pyrrha had lived with her for too long not to catch the soft wavering in her voice.

Cinder let out a content _humming_ noise as she returned to Blake, gesturing for the model to lie on the carpeted floor. Blake complied, perhaps a little sullenly, trying to steady her breaths and relax her muscles as Cinder went to work.

Pyrrha was hardly an expert, but Cinder seemed to know her way with rope. The lady used thin, white ropes - pre-selected for length - and began binding Blake's hands behind her back, the cords visibly digging into her skin. Blake's palms faced outwards, making escape all the more difficult, Cinder's dexterous fingers forming knots in the ropes that looked remarkably secure. A moment later Cinder bound Blake's ankles together in similar fashion, coils of rope looping around the denim of her jeans, before her wrists and ankles were bound together in a stringent hogtie. Blake winced slightly at the strain of the tight arch her back was being pulled into, though Pyrrha suspected Blake wouldn't let her prized mask of stoicism slip anytime soon.

"I'm going to gag you now," explained Cinder, selecting a handkerchief and a long strip of fabric. "I keep a pair of medical shears on me at all times, which will cut through pretty much anything if there's a problem. If for any reason you have trouble breathing, or want to stop, just extend your middle fingers, alright?" Blake merely grunted in acknowledgement, which Cinder took with a shrug. "Open up, now."

Blake's lips parted barely wide enough for Cinder to slip the handkerchief into her mouth, the balled-up fabric causing her cheeks to puff out in a way Pyrrha thought was unexpectedly adorable. A thin black cloth was then pulled between her teeth, knotted tightly behind her head to keep her from spitting anything out.

"There we go," said Cinder, stroking a few of Blake's long, black hairs out of her face as she spoke. "I'd say she looks rather stunning, wouldn't you agree, Pyrrha?"

Pyrrha, startled to hear herself being addressed by name, was forcibly snapped out of the mild hypnosis she'd been under as she'd watched the symmetrical bonds loop around her roommate. Two pairs of eyes locked onto hers, expectantly. "Yes, um… very pretty," agreed the athlete, one hand massaging the back of her neck. Pyrrha couldn't help but notice the blush creeping over Blake's face, and Cinder smiled, contentedly.

"Alright, Blake, I'm going to keep you tied up like that for ten minutes," said Cinder, making her way back to her camera. "Please don't look directly into any of the cameras, unless it's the one in my hands."

The next few minutes passed in relative silence (in no small part due to Blake's gag). Cinder made a few adjustments to the lens of her camera before she began eagerly snapping away, the flash bursting to life every few seconds or so. Pyrrha didn't miss the frown that crossed Cinder's face as she reviewed the first few photographs on her camera's display.

"I know it might not be comfortable, Blake, but I'd like you to show a little more movement," directed Cinder, readying the camera once more.

"Fhhhld hm trn th mfghpm?" Blake tried to say, though the thick wadding in her mouth and the cloth pulled across her tongue were making intelligence speech impossible.

"No, don't try to escape," answered Cinder, somehow translating what to Pyrrha was (admittedly kind of cute) gibberish. "When you're squirming, I suggest trying to shake your shoulders, rather than your wrists. It shows up on camera better, and you're less likely to get rope burns." Cinder paused, in the middle of raising the camera to her eye again. "Oh, and if you could try making more sound," she added. "The viewers tend to prefer it if the girl tries to talk into her gag, otherwise it's all for naught. You don't even have to make words, just loud noises."

Pyrrha caught the gist of Blake's annoyed grunt even through the gag, but her roommate seemed to comply anyways, shaking her arms and legs enough to look like she was putting up at least a facsimile of a struggle. There was enough slack in the rope tying Blake's wrists to her ankles that it visibly snapped taught if she tried to move too much, and when she rolled onto her back even Pyrrha found her eyes drifting to Blake's chest, and what the ropes did for it.

"So, Pyrrha, how did you and Blake get to know one another?" asked Cinder, once again forcing Pyrrha to snap out of a trance. Her voice sounded disinterested, as if she was just making idle conversation, but both Pyrrha and Blake caught the glint in her eye.

"It was serendipity, really," said Pyrrha, just slightly more guarded than she usually was. Her own life was a remarkably open book - she'd had her own article on Wikipedia since she was 14 - but she knew Blake valued her own privacy immensely, guarded it like a dragon with its horde. "Blake's last roommate moved out just as I was transferring to attend Beacon University. My own allowance is pretty small, so splitting rent works out great for both of us."

"Allowance?" asked Cinder, too astute to have let that slip. "Do your parents keep you on so tight a leash?"

"No, actually it's… my sponsors," said Pyrrha, fumbling over the words slightly as she spoke. "All my earnings are put into a trust until I graduate from university, or else turn thirty. I only get a small stipend for living expenses each month."

"I thought I recognized your name," mused Cinder, as she crouched down in front of Blake for a close-up photo, snorting softly at Blake's evident scowl. "To think I have a future Olympian in my house. I'm honored."

"Please, it's… not that special," replied Pyrrha, reflexively downplaying the praise. "There aren't a lot of people eagerly following women's heptathlon. 100 meter hurdles is a long way from beach volleyball."

"You're far too modest, dear," chided Cinder, between shots. "One can see the commitment to your training practically carved into those arms of yours," she continued, Pyrrha's sleeveless turtleneck doing nothing to hide the fruits of her labors in the gym. "That kind of dedication is truly inspiring."

"Thanks… I guess." Pyrrha paused, shifting her weight between her legs in an old nervous habit of hers. "So, Ms. Fall how did you become a, um, _photographer_?"

"Please, dear, call me Cinder," the woman responded, as the camera clicked again. "I have to say I've always had something of an interest in fetish subcultures. Now that I have the money to spare, I opened a studio as a way of indulging my…hobby."

"Oh? So… photography… isn't your full-time job?"

"Heavens, no," said Cinder with a small laugh. "This is just something I do on the side, to make a little extra money. An indulgence of mine, though one that pays a tidy profit."

Cinder seemed to determine that her first photoshoot was over, setting her camera down and getting to work on untying Blake. She undid the gag first, allowing Blake to spit out the cloth balled in her mouth onto the carpet with a _fweh_.

"So how was that, Blake?" asked Cinder, apparently taking her time on the knots around her wrists.

"Fine," replied Blake, licking her lips slightly as she did.

"Ropes didn't chafe?"

"Not enough to be painful," Blake confirmed, even if the coils would be etched into her skin for hours, if not days.

"Most girls I work with tend put on a smile and act playful when they're not given a script to follow," noted Cinder, as she finished untying Blake's wrists, "or else act like terrified maidens." She took a step back and allowed Blake to swing herself into a sitting position, untying her ankles herself. "But you seem to be content with your aura of indifference."

"I've been hearing that a lot, lately," grumbled Blake, recalling conversations with the men who had once been her managers. She let out a small grunt in frustration in response to the difficulty she was having picking at the knot around her legs. "Do you want me to smile more?"

"Please, not on my behalf," said Cinder, with a faint chuckle, pouring herself another glass of Shiraz. "I just hope there's demand out there for an unusually stoic bondage model."

"I aim to please," replied Blake with her habitual coolness, tossing a smirk Pyrrha's way as she did. "Could I get something to drink, please?"

"Of course," said Cinder, as if she was kicking herself for forgetting. "And something for your escort, too. I trust Ms. Nikos has no objection to canned soda?"

"None at all," answered Pyrrha, a wry grin creasing her face despite herself.

"One moment, ladies," said Cinder, as she vanished into the hallway.

The room suddenly felt unusually silent. With an awkward tentativeness, Pyrrha made her way to Blake, crouching down beside her on the carpet. She couldn't entirely guess how Blake was feeling, whether there were few secrets behind her stony mask of if she felt humiliated by Pyrrha witnessing her vulnerability.

"Are you okay, Blake?" Pyrrha murmured, as if she feared being overheard.

"Don't worry about me," replied Blake, side-stepping the question ever-so-slightly. "I was dumb enough to get fired, I can deal with the consequences."

"Blake, don't think like that," chided Pyrrha, brushing a few strands of her roommate's hair, unthinkingly.

"Sorry," responded Blake with a small grin, rolling onto her back as she did. A sigh escaped her. "I even have kind of a thing for bondage, so I shouldn't be worried about this."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, er, just a kink," said Blake, blushing as she spoke. "But it's…. not the kind of thing you do with people you don't trust, eh?"

"Do you want to leave?" asked Pyrrha. Blake paused, then shook her head, softly.

"While the realization that I'm going to be a masturbatory aid for horny teenagers isn't exactly a pleasant one," began Blake.

"Tell me about it," agreed Pyrrha, her interruption unusually vehement. Blake fell silent for a moment, recalling conversations they'd had in the wee hours of the night, while waiting for a screen to load or for the morning's coffee to brew. How Pyrrha had found her photos creeping up in the dark recesses of the web, photos from the tournament circuit or old high school track meets. The outfits her sponsors had her wear for publicity didn't always have a shy teenager's sense of modesty in mind.

"But I still owe you my share of the rent," finished Blake, a moment's pause later. The finality in her tone suggesting this wasn't something she wanted to talk about again. "And besides… you're here."

There was an intangible warmth exchanged with their gazes, Blake feeling a weight lifted from her chest, while Pyrrha's swelled with pride at the trust invested in her. Pyrrha squeezed Blake's shoulder, and got the coyest grin from her roommate in response.


	4. Hurdles and Sprints

Cinder took that moment to reappear, carrying a six pack ring of Coca-Cola, a large duffel bag, and wearing the most eye-catching catsuit either girl had ever seen. "Please forgive my delay," said Cinder in that effortless drawl of hers, setting down the six pack ring and removing a can. "I took the opportunity to change for the next shoot while I was out." She handed Blake a can, the reluctant model cracking it open with a _snap_ that seemed to echo in the high-ceilinged room.

"What do you want me to do this time?" asked Blake, after quenching her thirst and clearing the taste of cotton from her tongue.

"That scene you just did was basically a demo reel," explained Cinder, seating herself in a chair opposite Pyrrha. She crossed one leg over the other, drawing attention to the way the fabric of the catsuit clung to her like a second skin. There was a silver zipper up the front which was slid so far down it left a generous slice of Cinder's cleavage exposed, while her arms and shoulders were similarly bare. "I'll probably end up teasing it on the website, might even leak it for free, bring in fresh blood." Blake's brow furled a little. "I'd like to do a proper scene with you now, the first of a few tonight, something with a little more… _drama_."

"As long as you're paying me, I'm game," replied Blake, sounding like a mercenary Pyrrha knew she wasn't. "What's the story?"

"Nothing too complicated, don't worry," said Cinder with a soft smile. "It's effectively the same scene I've done with a half-dozen other models. I play a catburglar, Ashen Naught. I slip into the house, confront you, tie you up, then forcibly strip you."

"Okay," said Blake, conspicuously neutrally. "That's it?"

"I might feel you up a bit, assuming you have no objections?" asked Cinder, in that tone of voice suggesting she certainly didn't expect there to be any. "You play for both teams, don't you, Blake?"

"I'm bi, if that's what you're trying to ask," Blake confirmed, not really feeling up for wordplay that night. A shame, given her literary penchant for drifting into purple prose. "So what do you want to do - ass, breasts, crotch?"

"That's the general idea," agreed Cinder. "No penetration of any kind. You did note the bonus I pay for models appearing naked, correct?" Blake nodded, knowing it could be the difference between making rent and not. "And I'm sure you're strong enough to handle a bit of pain," continued Cinder, just the hint of a challenge in her voice. Pyrrha felt a quiver of unease rumble through her, though Blake's face remained a stony mask. "So what are you wearing underneath that?" asked Cinder, returning to less dangerous territory.

"A black bra," answered Blake, doing her best to sound unfazed.

"And for underwear?"

"Boyshorts. Sorry, I left my Victoria's Secret collection at home," said Blake, her voice dry.

Cinder let out an amused snort. "Don't worry, Blake, I never figured you for the lingerie type," said Cinder. "I think I have something in your size, from another model." She gestured to the duffel bag she'd hauled in with her. "Nothing too provocative, just something with a little lace to offset that tomboy look you have going."

"Tomboy?" asked Blake and Pyrrha, simultaneously.

Cinder glanced over her shoulder, bemused. "Please forgive me. I come from more… _traditional_ parts, where any lady not in a skirt and blouse was seen as an outlier." She pulled out a lacy black bra and matching panties, the kind of garments whose price was inversely proportional to the amount of skin they covered. "As much as I'd like nothing more than to accentuate the punk in Blake, I think we should see how the demo tape is received first. My demographic has tended to skew towards more traditionally feminine looks." She handed Blake the folded garments. "Pyrrha, shall we give Blake the room so she can change?"

"It's nothing Pyrrha hasn't seen before," interjected Blake, perhaps a little too fast.

"Oh really?" asked Cinder, sending an inquisitive glance in the athlete's direction.

"That was just… Blake didn't hear that I'd come home and came out of the shower," Pyrrha hurriedly explained, as if trying to preserve Blake's honor.

"Well, I can hardly blame you for staring," said Cinder, correctly deducing what Pyrrha had done when she came face-to-face with her roommate, black hair still dripping. It was laundry day, both had belatedly remembered, not a towel to be found.

Blake changed with mechanical efficiency, casting off her shirt, pants and socks before slipping out of her bra and panties, tossing them on a nearby chair. She made no move to cover herself, or even shield herself with her body. Cinder kept her back turned to Blake, while Pyrrha found herself sneaking glances out of the corner of her eye. It seemed rather foolish, given that Blake was going to be properly naked in a few minutes, but stealing a glimpse of her roommate stepping into lacy panties was a sight so forbidden that Pyrrha couldn’t help but flirt with temptation.

Once Blake was at least partially clothed, Cinder set about selecting the remainder of her outfit, settling on a black dress, albeit a fairly modest one. "This should be in your size, Blake," said Cinder, as she passed over the dress. "Perhaps a little too 'high school prom', but there's nostalgia value in that."

Pyrrha let out a small snort despite herself. "You'll have to tell me about it," she said, her voice just a little sharper than normal. "I spent prom alone."

Blake glanced up, mid-way through dressing, as her ears caught the note of bitterness in her roommate's voice. They didn't talk too much about Pyrrha's school life before coming to Beacon U, and the fragments she'd heard hadn't been too pretty. Pyrrha had attended what was basically a meat grinder of an academy, where performance and ranking reigned supreme, and where she had risen to the top in turn. But from everything Blake had seen and heard, it hadn't done much for Pyrrha on a personal level. Only a few parents sent their daughters to schools with such punishing athletic regimens, and those few that went didn't seem to share Pyrrha's appreciation for the fairer sex. And with a faculty comprised overwhelmingly of drill sergeant-types Pyrrha hadn't exactly had a lot of sympathetic ears to turn to.

There were a few moments of silence as Blake finished getting dressed, not even Cinder Fall finding any further conversation to extract. All things considered, the dress wasn't too horrible. It was low cut, but a black mesh covered the parts of her chest the dress did not, the skirt's slit high but not treacherously so. Blake slid into a proffered pair of black pantyhose, before taking a seat and allowing Cinder to give her a touch-up with a small makeup kit.

Blake normally avoided makeup whenever possible, having briefly gone through a goth phase in adolescence and then swearing off the stuff almost entirely. Still, Cinder unquestionably knew what she was doing, making gentle tweaks rather than dramatic alterations. A touch of blush _here_ , some shadow _there_ , maybe some glossy lipstick to round things out.

Blake couldn't avoid realizing that this was the nicest she'd ever looked in front of Pyrrha, probably the best she'd ever looked in _years_ , really. The specifics of Pyrrha's tastes of women remained an infuriating enigma to Blake, as her roommate so rarely ventured into discussing what she herself found pleasurable. All Blake could do was silently pray that Pyrrha had a soft spot for girls in hoodies and old jeans. But what if she liked girls in heels and dresses, who could do their hair up nicely and keep their nails clean?

"I could give you a script," began Cinder, interrupting Blake's introspection, "but I suspect we'll have better luck improvising. I'll try to keep it simple. You come in here, I point a fake gun at you, you do as I say, and then I tie you up."

"Still no escaping?"

"You can, if you want to try this time," answered Cinder. "Though please don't put up a real struggling when I'm tying you up, as that will only complicate the shoot. Still, I like leaving some room for spontaneity in my scenes, so if you can find a way out in a reasonable period of time, by all means try. Just don't wander too far, as I'd rather not give the audience a tour of my house," Cinder said with a small grin. She turned her attention to Pyrrha. "And if Pyrrha could lend me hand, she'd have my gratitude."

"What do you need Pyrrha for?" demanded Blake, the edge in her voice belying the softness of her appearance, before Pyrrha herself could ask. Cinder smirked softly at the protectiveness in Blake's tone.

"Just as an additional camerawoman," explained Cinder, her words soft and soothing. "I have several stationary cameras but I like to use a free cam for scenes like this, to catch shots the pre-positioned ones would miss."

"You don't need to involve Pyrrha in this," Blake repeated, taking a half-step towards her roommate.

"My apologies," said Cinder, raising her hands slightly as she did. "I merely suggested it because it will save us some time. Otherwise, we'll have to pause a few times during shooting - while you're tied up - so I can re-position the cameras." Cinder shrugged. "Though I didn't mean to presume your services, Ms. Nikos."

"That's fi-"

"We can spend the extra time," growled Blake.

"Blake, please," said Pyrrha, finally managing to get a word in edgewise. "I'm fine with holding a camera if you'd like, Miss- Cinder."

"Pyrrha, I don't mind being tied up a little while longer if it means-"

"-Let me make things just a little bit easier for you, Blake," pleaded Pyrrha, and Blake shut up with unprecedented abruptness.

Cinder let the silence grow for a few seconds before sensing the moment to speak up once more. "Well, if Blake has no objections, allow me to give you a quick run-down," said Cinder, passing Pyrrha a handheld camera. She spent the next few minutes explaining the various buttons and dials to Pyrrha - though how to zoom in and out were really the only ones that really mattered. Pyrrha spent the whole time stealing glances at Blake, catching the look of almost apprehensive gratitude her roommate was sending her way, and sending her own warmth in return.

"Alright, Pyrrha, just follow Blake from the antechamber into the living room," explained Cinder, as they prepared to shoot in earnest. Their host had donned a mask, covering a sliver of her visage, as well as a pair of boots with punishing stiletto heels. "With that camera, ten to fifteen feet of distance is probably best. It's not imperative, but try to catch as little of the other equipment as possible. Any questions, dear?"

"Can't be that complicated," said Pyrrha with a polite, photogenic smile. "Get tight shots of all the restraints, and also Blake's face. Keep the camera steady. Never stop recording."

"That's the magic of it," agreed Cinder. "We can work miracles with editing nowadays, though all the same I'd rather avoid that migraine. Of course, if you're having any problems just say the word and we'll pause."

"I doubt that will be necessary," stated Pyrrha, with atypical firmness.

They began with Cinder positioning herself in front of all the cameras and slapping her hands together, providing a place to sync all the footage. Pyrrha then doubled back to the hallway, where Blake was waiting, her roommate barely avoiding glancing at Pyrrha's camera as she did.

Blake felt strange, walking through the hallway, Pyrrha filming her from just a few steps away. When it had been Cinder with the camera Blake's rebellious instincts had gotten the better of her, she'd gotten annoyed at the part in this charade she was expected to play. With Pyrrha not just watching her but filming her, tracking her every move… Blake found herself _wanting_ to look good. At the time, she didn't think to wonder if that had been Cinder's plan all along.

Blake stepped into the living room and found herself confronted by Cinder - or "Ashen Naught" - Blake raising her hands in a melodramatic pantomime of fear.

"Please don't hurt me," 'begged' Blake, and even Pyrrha behind the camera grimaced at her delivery. Then again, she doubted people were watching these videos for the riveting theatre.

"Do exactly as I say and you'll have nothing to fear," replied Cinder, her tone perfectly cool and composed, almost unchanged from how she'd spoken to them off-camera. "Put your hands behind your head and spread your legs."

"But, why?" asked Blake, tossing in a curveball of improvised dialogue.

"I can't have you hiding anything on you," answered Cinder, adapting effortlessly. "Now _move_ , or you're going to feel pain."

Blake positioned herself as directed, standing stock-still as Cinder pulled herself close against Blake, frisking her as an excuse to stroke and grope. Her hands drifted up Blake's leg and beneath the hem of her dress, rubbing the space between Blake's legs for some time before Cinder got bored and moved to Blake's torso. Blake tensed ever-so-slightly as Cinder's hands played across her stomach, but her stoicism returned by the time Cinder reached her breasts, squeezing greedily. Pyrrha watched it all through her camera's digital display, her embarrassment at her own voyeurism morphing into something else entirely as she tracked the predatory glint in Cinder's eyes. All the while Blake made no effort to protect herself, refusing to blush or twitch or show any other signs of embarrassment. _That_ , of course, was the Blake Belladonna that Pyrrha knew, the one who was at her core a creature unbowed, fearless in a way Pyrrha doubted she herself would ever be.

Satisfied with her faux search, Cinder walked away from Blake, tossing her captive what looked like a pair of panties, which Blake snatched effortlessly out of the air. "Put those in your mouth," demanded Cinder. Pyrrha idly wondered if that was part of the script, or if Cinder thought silencing Blake earlier on would be the less painful option. Pyrrha zoomed in the camera slightly, focusing on Blake's portrait as her roommate indifferently stuffed the panties into her mouth, the _sangfroid_ in her eyes giving lie to the fear and helplessness of her character.

"Good, now, _kneel_ ," ordered Cinder, and Blake fell softly to her knees, keeping her hands raised as she did. Cinder rolled a spool of duct tape over to her, which Blake caught before it tipped to the ground. "Wrap it around your head." With a weary sigh that even Pyrrha's camera recorded, Blake plastered one end of the tape to her face and began winding it around her skull, wincing slightly as the sticky material caught on her hair. "Keep going," demanded Cinder, once Blake had wrapped it around her head once. She spun it around her head three more times before "Ashen Naught" was satisfied, by then the tape feeling like a constrictive vice around Blake's head, coiling inwards.

"It's nice that you take orders so well," said Cinder, teasingly, as Blake separated the roll of grey duct tape from the coil around her face. "Wrap it around your ankles, now." Blake repositioned herself, and Pyrrha slowly dropped to one knee to keep everything in frame. Seated on her ass, Blake's dress rode up, revealing the length of her pantyhose-clad legs, which she quickly proceeded to bind in tape. Blake didn't wait for prompting from Cinder this time, simply encircling her ankles with tape until there was no possible way she could kick herself free. At least with the pantyhose between the tape and her skin it would be significantly less painful to remove.

"Very good, dear," applauded Cinder. "Now, lie down, and keep your hands behind your back." Cinder covered the distance between her and the prone Blake Belladonna in a few graceful strides, retrieving the roll of tape and proceeding to bind Blake's hands behind her back. Once she was done there, Cinder began taping Blake's elbows together, Blake letting out a surprised moan into her gag as her arms were forced into a punishing position. Pyrrha almost called out for Cinder to stop then and there, hesitating only when she noted that Blake hadn't flashed her non-verbal safe-word, nor was she trying to catch Pyrrha's eye.

"Don't get anywhere, _my love_ ," taunted Cinder once she was done, slipping a hand beneath Blake's dress to grab a handful of ass as she pressed her lips to Blake's cheeks, her lipstick leaving a carmine mark.

Cinder exited the frame of the video, taking off her mask as she strolled over to Pyrrha. Wordlessly, she took the camera from Pyrrha, apparently wanting to do some filming of her own.

Surprised to again find herself with nothing to do, Pyrrha slowly drifted around the edge of the set, until she was directly in front of Blake's line-of-sight. She crouched down, so the two were almost eye level. Blake thrashed about in her tape restraints but didn't make any move to go anywhere, simply yelling a few ineffective obscenities into her gag. Blake's arms were killing her, but she couldn't resist rolling over to give Pyrrha a frontal view of the dress, at the way tape and fabric conspired to enhance the allure of her figure. Pyrrha blushed crimson as Blake caught her staring. And though layers of tape concealed it, Blake was grinning.

Cinder returned to Pyrrha a moment later, having recorded a few shots only she had an eye for, apparently. She handed Pyrrha the camera with one hand, the other holding a prop burlap bag, stuffed with the 'loot' of Ashen Naught's fictitious burglary. Pyrrha fumbled with the camera for a few seconds, her eye catching the viewfinder just as Cinder had returned her attention to Blake.

"How can you live in a mansion like this and have nothing of worth stealing?" 'Ashen Naught' demanded, grabbing Blake's head by the jaw and staring into her eyes. Blake let out a distressed-sounding _moan_ , though Pyrrha's camera recorded her unflinching gaze. "Do you want to tell me where the jewels are? The cash?" When Blake said nothing, Cinder withdrew a pair of safety shears, with a stainless steel blade normally used by paramedics to cut through clothing. "Last chance?"

Blake let out a menacing growl, breaking character for probably the dozenth time this video. With a soft _tsking_ noise Cinder began a task she obviously enjoyed very much, sliding the shears around Blake's dress and beginning to slice it off.

Pyrrha felt something slowly boiling inside her as Cinder turned Blake's dress into shreds, the tattered remains of the fabric pulled free and tossed aside. It only grew as Cinder tore up the lingerie bra and panties she'd loaned Blake, exposing her to the cameras. It boiled over when Cinder's hands began running over Blake's breasts and nipples, groping and squeezing with little tenderness, Blake's winces captured at sixty frames a second. It took Pyrrha a while to identify what the emotion was because it was one she felt so very rarely, and suppressed reflexively when she did.

It was _rage_.

Pyrrha felt something in her change. She'd accepted that Blake was okay with being naked and tied up, the specifics of her kinks and fetishes irrelevant to the redhead. But for whatever reason, she couldn't stay silent in face of the muted pain on Blake's face as Cinder's nails raked her skin. Felt anger at the suffering Blake was subjecting herself to as Cinder cruelly pinched delicate morsels of flesh. Rage at the way Cinder had trespassed from simple restraint and mild touches, how she was doing her utmost to elicit whimpers and cries from Blake.

"Okay," Pyrrha called out, as Cinder was pressing her lips against Blake's taped mouth, her hands in the middle of leaving bruising marks on Blake's breasts. Pyrrha snapped the camera shut and tossed it none-too-carefully to a nearby couch, taking a step into frame as she did.

"Pyrrha?" said Cinder, the surprise on the edge of her voice sounding remarkably genuine. "What's troubling you?"

"What's _troubling_ me," spat back Pyrrha, a unfamiliar venom seeping into words, "is that you're hurting my friend."

"Blake?" Cinder spun around, facing her taped-up captive. "Did I miss a signal to stop?" The way her brow was furled made it look like she was honestly concerned that she had.

Blake slowly shook her head, but Cinder grabbed the shears anyways, unwrapping most of the tape around Blake's head before she had enough slack to slip the shears in and slice through the material. The tape was still clinging to Blake's hair, but the model ripped off the strips covering her lips without hesitation, wincing only slightly at the pain. She spat out the panties stuffed in her mouth, reflexively gagging slightly as she did.

" _Pyrrha_ ," began Blake, after a small cough, the name dripping with confusion and uncertainty as it was spoken. "What are you-"

"I don't want you to do this, Blake," interrupted Pyrrha, suddenly crouched in front of Blake's nude form. "I'll find something of mine to sell, we'll figure it out, don't worry. I just…" Tears were on the edge of her eyes, threatening to choke her.

"…I'll give you as much time as you need," said Cinder, pointedly setting down the medical shears beside Pyrrha. The champion squeezed her eyes shut as she listened to those heeled boots stroll away from her, the creak of a door swinging open and shut.

"I'm sorry," said Pyrrha, the oft-repeated line bringing a small smile to Blake's face, though one her roommate didn't share. "Maybe you should have come here with someone else but I just… I don't know if I can see you in pain, Blake." Her throat tightened. "You shouldn't be crying when being kissed."

"Pyrrha Nikos, you're a hopeless romantic, you know that, right?" asked Blake, trying to sound light-hearted. Her words seemed to have little effect on the redhead, though, causing Blake's brow to furl in worry. " _Pyrrha_ ," repeated Blake, the name soft as falling petals. Pyrrha wrapped her arms around Blake's shoulders, squeezing her tight against her bosom, breathing in Blake's hair, the fruity scent of the cheap shampoo she used. "Hey… Hey, don't cry," said Blake, the softest of laughs in her voice as she heard a small sniffle from Pyrrha. "Listen, Pyrrha… look at me."

Pyrrha pulled back the few inches it took to look Blake in the eye. Blake hesitated for what felt like an eternity, staring into those emerald green eyes, thinking of all the feelings behind them. Then, fueled more by passion than by reason, Blake made a short lunge forward, pressing her lips against Pyrrha's.

They kissed - for a minute or an hour - before Blake slowly pulled back, breaking the seal with a soft _smack_. Blake's breathing was heavy, Pyrrha's even heavier, fire and electricity coursing through their bodies.

"I… I wanted to do that for a long time," confessed Blake.

"Blake," breathed Pyrrha, "I-"

"I didn't mean to take advantage of you, or anything like that," Blake hurried to explain, the awkwardness of being bound and naked all but forgotten. "You just sounded so sad, and I wanted to make you happy… I mean, not that I kissed you just to make you happy, rather, I mean, the way you said you cared about me made me want to…"

Blake's sentence trailed off, her thoughts damned to inarticulateness by the hormones rushing through her. Pyrrha froze for a moment, stupefied as to what to say, what to do, before settling on the obvious solution.

She kissed Blake right back.

This time there was _need_ and _hunger_ in their kisses, an overwhelming desire to be closer that left bodies pressed together. Blake toppled onto the carpet, Pyrrha atop her, a head of red hair cascading down over her.

The next few minutes were spent like that, a wordless exchange of kisses that would leave marks on each girl in the morning. Pyrrha finally pulled herself off Blake, the awkwardness of making out with a girl who was naked and bound hand and foot finally getting to her.

"Let me get this tape off you," said Pyrrha, groping around for the shears.

"Don’t!" Blake interjected, stopping Pyrrha a moment before she began slicing through the restraints at her wrists. "I don't want Cinder to have to redo it."

"Blake…"

"Pyrrha, I want to spend time with you," said Blake, beating around the bush. "I mean… I'd like to date you, if that's cool." The words sounded awkward in her ears, like she was engaging in some Victorian courtship ritual, but she forced them out all the same. "I know your sponsors and everyone might not be cool to see you dating anyone, least of all a girl, even _less_ a girl like me, but…"

"Blake Belladonna, I accept," declared Pyrrha, a smile creeping to her face.

"Accept? Accept wh-"

"Your offer to be my girlfriend."

"I…. I didn't phrase it that way in my head," confessed Blake, cheeks aflame. "I think it sounds better your way."

"So you understand why I find it hard to watch my girlfriend in pain," said Pyrrha, bringing their conversation back to its somber origins.

"And I'm not going to be your girlfriend for very long if I can't afford to live in the same city as you," Blake shot back. "Yeah, this hurts a bit, but every day you practically kill yourself keeping those perfect abs of yours."

"That's different," Pyrrha replied, not knowing exactly how but knowing it _was_.

Blake shrugged, or shrugged as much as she could with her arms still wrenched behind her back. "Maybe it is," she conceded. "And maybe I have to make a small sacrifice in order to make ends meet. I'd love to hear a better idea, but right now if the only surefire way to make sure we can be together in a few weeks is to indulge Cinder's fantasy, then there are girls who have it a hell of a lot worse than I do."

Blake stole another kiss from Pyrrha, before settling into the crook of her shoulder, losing herself in the way Pyrrha's hand unconsciously brushed against her back.

"It's not really the pain or the restraints that are bad," murmured Blake, rocking slightly with each heavy breath her girlfriend-of-several-minutes took. "I'm deviant enough that I could actually _enjoy_ that." Both girls laughed faintly. "It's just that I feel nothing for Cinder, so it's a detached experience. Sensory data without sensation, if that makes any sense."

They were silent for several more seconds, Blake unsure what would happen next until she felt Pyrrha's breath on her face. "I think," began Pyrrha, whispering so softly that even with her mouth next to Blake's ears the words were barely audible, "I might have an idea."

"Oh?" murmured Blake in response, as if she was afraid of waking from a dream

"How do you think I'd look in Cinder's catsuit?"

Blake's heart skipped a beat, and a very different sense of excitement began coursing through her.


	5. Making (Two) Ends Meet

* * *

Subject: A Flame in the Night  
Sent: December-24-15 9:13:57 PM  
From: Cinder Fall (cinder@cinderfulstudios.com)  
To: Blake Belladonna (blake.belladonna90@gmail.com)  
CC: Pyrrha Nikos (pnikos@beacon.edu)

Dearest Blake,

It seems congratulations are in order. I was going to send over a bottle of wine, but then I remembered how infuriatingly _proper_ your girlfriend is about these things. Perhaps a donation to the Red Cross would be more to her liking. Suffice it to say, not even a fortnight after its release "A Flame in the Night" is on track to be my best-selling video, and that's for a film starring two unknown models. I've already fended off half a dozen inquiries from rival studios looking to work with 'the red haired girl in the mask'. Though I suppose none of us should have been surprised by Ms. Nikos' performance before the cameras.

As always, I would welcome the opportunity to work with either of you again, separately or together. I am immensely relieved to hear that there is no bad blood between us, or between myself and Ms. Nikos.

While the road at times was bumpy, I'd say we're all satisfied with the destination, wouldn't you?

Love,  
Cinder

* * *

"Well, that was rather kind of her to write," said Pyrrha as she finished reading under her breath, scrolling through the email on Blake's laptop, a tired old Toshiba model her girlfriend steadfastly refused to part with.

"Can I see it?" asked Blake, the silken scarf that blindfolded her preventing her from reading Cinder's email.

Pyrrha creased her brow in mock annoyance, not like there was anyone in her bedroom who could see it. "I'm sorry, but did I suggest we were finished?" Pyrrha asked, rather rhetorically.

"No," Blake replied, if a bit sullenly. There was a few moment's silence, until Blake realized Pyrrha was waiting for her. "No, _ma'am_."

"Good girl," praised Pyrrha, running her hand through Blake's silken strands of hair as she did, eliciting a noise that sounded suspiciously close to a _purr_. "Now, where were we?"

They were in Pyrrha's bedroom, though the distinction between Pyrrha's and Blake's had largely been blurred into irrelevance. Pyrrha's bed was slightly larger, which meant they ended up spending far more time in it, though Blake still had to keep most of her possessions in her own room, finding it impossible to live up to Pyrrha's standards of organization. The room was presently lit only by a lone lava lamp, a dark red light illuminating floating blobs of wax, like oversized globules of blood.

Blake lay on her back atop Pyrrha's bed, her irregular breaths loud as gunshots in the silence.

"You're looking rather excited," mused Pyrrha, sliding off the edge of the low bed so her head was level with Blake's prone form. Knotted coils of rope bound Blake's ankles to her thighs, the strain forcing her knees to spread, concealing nothing from her girlfriend. "I hope it wasn't my talk of Cinder that got you this way."

"No," Blake swore, as Pyrrha's head slipped between her thighs, her breath sending a shivers down Blake's back as she felt it on her folds. Pyrrha, with infinite softness, brushed her lips against Blake's vulva, causing her to twitch with nervous anticipation. Blake could barely restrain herself, wanting all of her girlfriend _right now_ , which was why Pyrrha had taken the liberty of restraining her instead. All those years in the gym had given the redhead a much better appreciation of pacing, after all. Blake's hands rested on opposite elbows behind her back in a simple boxtie, a few more strands of coarse rope creating an inescapable harness. Needless to say, the last few weeks had done _wonders_ to increase Blake's flexibility. "Not exactly, anyways."

"Not _exactly_?" asked Pyrrha, planting a final kiss on Blake's hood before pulling back a little, letting her hands rest on her girlfriend's thighs. "Is my one true love fantasizing about another woman while _Pyrrha Nikos_ goes down on her?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," called out Blake, the panic in her voice suggesting she'd missed the teasing tone in Pyrrha's. "I just meant.. her message made me think of the first time you tied me up." 

"It feels like only a week ago, but actually it was _two_ ," agreed Pyrrha, mockingly. Blake's nervousness evaporated when Pyrrha began kissing the inside of her thighs, beginning near the left knee and slowly making her way up. She paid special attention to where the coiled ropes dug into flesh, where Blake would quiver and twitch at the slightest touch.

"It was just… the most exciting first date I've ever been on," explained Blake, barely managing to string words into sentences as Pyrrha's lips approached her crotch again.

"What, was that not normal?" asked Pyrrha playfully, silencing Blake for a few seconds by pressing against her folds. Pyrrha might not have ever really dated anyone before attending Beacon U, though even _she_ knew that coffee usually came before ropes and handcuffs.

"I suppose I should've expected it, seeing how you make a living sprinting to the finish line," replied Blake, dryly, marginally more articulate now that the patter of kisses was moving from her crotch back down the opposite thigh.

"Upon reflection, I think that's _quite enough_ flippancy from you today," growled Pyrrha, reaching around for another scarf. "I swear, I spend all my time learning these elaborate rope harnesses only to have the glibbest excuse of a bottom."

"You know, you make the best domme when you're feeling protective of me," Blake teased. "Like you're worried the mean Cinder Fall is going to swoop in and steal me away."

Pyrrha traced a hand delicately over Blake's vulva, before returning her attention to the knotted scarf. "Open up," Pyrrha instructed, pressing the fabric against Blake's lips.

Her girlfriend kept her lips closed just long enough to make her rebellion conspicuous, then parted her lips and letting Pyrrha cleave gag her, knotting the scarf tightly behind her head.

"Hm lhvm nhh," mumbled Blake through the gag, the thick knot blocking her tongue.

"I love you, too," replied Pyrrha, planting a kiss on the bare skin of her girlfriend's forehead.

Pyrrha slid back, hands brushing over Blake's breasts, before returning to her spot at the apex of girlfriend's thighs. Blake let out a moan for the hundredth time that night as Pyrrha's tongue brushed against her folds…

When a trickle of morning sunlight finally crept in, through the small window of their subterranean suite, Blake had cried out to every deity in the pantheon, if never once quite articulately. They lay together in bed, content to spend the day there if they could - arms, legs, hair entangled - lengths of rope and cloth and tape scattered about like the fragments of an explosion.

"Thanks for making me happy," Pyrrha mused, hovering in the blurry realm between consciousness and sleep.

"That a metaphor for something?" Blake mumbled into her pillow in response, a dozen ways they'd made love drifting through her mind.

"Everything," Pyrrha answered with a soft grin, as Blake's fingers sleepily traced the contours of her abs. "And nothing at all."

"Satisfied?" Blake asked for the dozenth time, a trickle of doubt seeping into her mind, half-asleep as it was.

"More than I would have thought possible, my love."

They slept through the morning in each other's arms, held in place by invisible bonds more unbreakable than any rope. They were two loose ends, who Fate and Fortune had conspired to knot together.

Neither could've been happier.


	6. Loose Ends

* * *

Subject: RE: Filming date for A Flame in the Night, Part II  
Sent: December-29-15 6:41:18 PM  
From: Pyrrha Nikos (pnikos@beacon.edu)  
To: Cinder Fall (cinder@cinderfulstudios.com)  
CC: Blake Belladonna (blake.belladonna90@gmail.com)

We'll be there be.

* * *

**COMMISSIONS ARE CLOSED!**  
by BeautyBeast90, Dec 30, 2015, 7:04:57 PM  
Journals / Personal

Thank you to everyone for an amazing 2015! (Except the people who somehow backtracked on paying me, but you fuckers know who you are). I'm going to be closing commissions for a little while, because (1) I need time to actually finish all the ones I accepted and (2) real-life is a cruel mistress.

In case you haven't noticed (and judging by the view counts, you have), I've posted a few more photos of myself. And I'm sure absolutely _nobody_ noticed they look very similar to certain promotional images from Cinderful Studios. You can stop politely feigning ignorance now, because here it is straight from the cat's mouth - yes, I'm doing a bit of bondage modeling on the side. No, I'm still not going to sext you. If anyone insists on being creepy you're going to face the wrath of Magnhild, the mighty banhammer.

On the subject of sleeping with people (still not you), I finally found a way to leap that hurdle that was keeping me from her. I can't honestly recommend the exact approach I ended up taking, but the moral of the story is: get good at jumping over hurdles. And being able to sprint on occasion also helps.

-Blake

PS: Can someone track down cardin_WIN_chester and inform him that I'm having incredibly hot girl-on-girl sex on a nightly basis now? He kept asking about it, so I feel like he should know what he's missing.

29 Comments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I live or die based on your comments. Feedback, positive or (constructively) negative is keeps me safe, sane, and motivated. Even just a quick sentence to let me know how you enjoyed it gives me with the warmth of 10 kudos.
> 
> So yeah... please don't hate me for how I ended it. Felt like going with a little more classic romance and a little less smut, hence the abuse of the 'fade to black' moments. Right up until I was writing it, the original plan was for Cinder declare that she was finished with Blake, leaving her still short on cash, with Pyrrha volunteering to model to make up the difference. Not bad, but the moment for Pyrrha's feelings about Blake to spill over was just too good to pass up (or so I thought, you might totally disagree). Still somehow have not written a proper bondage scene with Pyrrha, but I suppose if I get some interest...
> 
> Just in case that wasn't clear, Blake's shoot with Cinder wasn't meant to be what I believe it's like in real-life. And Cinder Fall is still a little evil here.
> 
> But yeah, please let me know if you enjoyed it. I definitely wasn't 100% happy with the last thing I published, so here's hoping I was returning to form a little. Were Blake and Pyrrha believable together? Did the scenes feel realistic or cheesy? Fun read or let-down? Anything more you'd like to see?
> 
> Thanks!


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